Chapter 6
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Devil's Hand Appears in the Sea (1)
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‘Another night already.’
Theodore Sinclair, the Old Lord, clicked his tongue as he gazed at the lavish bedroom.
The foot pain that visited him like an unwelcome guest wasn’t exactly a secret—his retainers and some servants knew about it—but the fact that he, once hailed as the finest knight in the south, had come to dread the nights for fear of another flare-up was a secret buried deeper than deep.
‘I wonder how long tonight will drag on.’
Before bed, he’d knock back a couple of stiff whiskeys to drown out the fear, but even that solace was gone now. It was all thanks to that young village chief’s silver tongue. Looked like he couldn’t count on liquid courage tonight, either.
‘Ugh... Backing out now would bruise my pride.’
He couldn’t very well renege after just a few days, so the Old Lord grumbled endlessly as he climbed into bed.
But once he lay down, a strange sensation washed over him, different from the usual.
‘Has my bed always been this comfortable?’
His bedding was, of course, the finest—prime wool and down feathers, smooth silk and cotton—but he usually stumbled into it bloated from overeating and drinking, so actually savoring the plush comfort felt refreshingly novel.
As the soft linens cradled his body like a cloud, the anxious pounding in his chest began to ease, wondering when the pain might strike.
‘Come to think of it, dinner was pretty satisfying tonight. Stuffed myself, and no discomfort after.’
Vegetables and fruits never graced his table, but if they were seasoned, spiced, and prepared with flair like today, he could actually enjoy them, a thought that flitted through his mind.
Even with fish as the main rather than meat, it had been more than satisfying—no, the best meal he’d had in ages.
‘Yeah, it was good. Damn good. Hmm...’
He’d always shunned sour and bitter flavors.
Fresh, crisp veggies and fruits? Never sought them out.
He’d dismissed them as things he hated, ignoring them day after day in favor of booze and meat. And yet...
‘My stubbornness had grown without me noticing.’
One dinner had brought that revelation.
That night, the Old Lord sank into the sweetest sleep he’d had in years, and around dawn, the mana dormant in his body for over a decade—frozen since his growth had stalled—began to stir ever so slightly.
A week flew by in the blink of an eye.
“...Let me go home...”
Dominic sprawled on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as he muttered to himself.
“The Old Lord hasn’t given permission yet.”
“I told you to get permission before barging in like that, and you still just waltzed right in? I’m a guest, you know.”
“He said to keep a close eye on... protect the guest.”
“...Did you just say ‘keep a close eye’?”
“You misheard.”
“No, I didn’t. You definitely said it.”
“...Tch.”
Dominic was still stuck in the lord’s castle. More precisely, with no permission to leave, he was trapped in this weird limbo—imprisoned or invited, who could say?
After that first dinner, he hadn’t set foot outside the room.
Mornings brought the head chef for the day’s menu and recipes, then off to the kitchens—job done!
At first, he’d lounged about thinking, ‘Is this what a real vacation’s like? This is the life!’ But a full week of it? The novelty wore off, anxiety creeping in.
No matter how comfy it was, endless waiting without an end in sight wasn’t exactly a barrel of laughs.
Food, booze, books—whatever he wanted, the servants fetched it on demand. But being cooped up indoors? That gnawed at him more each day.
If not for the blond knight, who knows what desperation might’ve driven him to.
The guy was rude and robotic, sure, but better than nothing.
“Talk to the Old Lord for me, Sir Knight. How long is this gonna go on? I’ve got stuff to do back home. Our village—the Evergreen Fishing Cooperative—they’re probably starving without me!”
“Until the Old Lord declares the gates open again, I’m afraid there’s no way.”
“Stop saying there’s no way and just ask around a bit, that’s all I’m saying. Are you really that oblivious, or just pretending?”
“I can tell your sentences are getting shorter.”
“Argh—fine, go tattle that I’m asking for punishment, then.”
The blond pretty boy still wore his sword at his hip, but Dominic was convinced he wouldn’t harm him, so he had zero fear.
‘He wants to punish me but can’t. I know the score.’
After that feast, who knows what wind blew through the Old Lord’s head—he’d slammed the gates shut and holed up in the tower. Before retreating, he’d left a handwritten note by his bedside.
[If you receive this note, do not disturb me further. Leave three meals a day at the set times inside the small gate. The Evergreen Village Chief will handle the menus for the duration, until I declare the gates open again.]
That was why Dominic was confined to this bedroom, no leaving the premises.
Either way, until the Old Lord emerged, Dominic couldn’t step out either—but no one could touch him.
“But seriously, does holing up like that in seclusion training actually change anything?”
“To surpass a realm, one needs enlightenment, and seclusion is one of the best ways to avoid interruptions.”
“Whoa—so how long does it take?”
Dominic’s eyes sparkled like he was reading a wuxia novel.
“Hard to say. Varies wildly by person—no real average. Fast ones breakthrough in hours; slow ones take years.”
“...You’re kidding.”
“Dead serious.”
“Holy sh—.”
“Tch. Such irreverent cursing.”
“What if it really takes years?”
“What else? You stay here for years too.”
“Oh crap, holy sh—!”
Dominic paled and let slip another curse before he could stop himself, but Ian just shook his head, saying nothing.
Probably thought it was hopeless too.
“...But anyway.”
“What?”
After staring into space silently for a bit, Dominic tilted his head.
“Where in that note does it say to lock me up?”
“What?”
“No such thing.”
“...But it says you’re in charge of the menus...”
“I can just write them down! I’ve got great handwriting. I’ve been giving detailed menus to the head chef this whole time!”
“...Hm?”
Dominic and Ian’s eyes met.
If this were a 21st-century Korean sitcom or variety show, you’d hear lightbulb pings over their heads in sync.
“Please talk to the Lord for me, I beg you! I’m a village chief too! I haven’t committed any crime—confinement? Ridiculous!”
“...There’s a regular meeting this afternoon. I’ll bring it up then.”
“Thank you! A knight as handsome as he is kind-hearted—the finest of this era!”
“...Tch.”
Ian shuddered in disgust at Dominic’s sudden, over-the-top flattery and bolted out of the room.
That afternoon.
After the meeting, Ian returned and handed Dominic a scroll.
It bore the lord’s seal.
“Ooh! My lord!”
The paper granted permission to return to Evergreen, along with orders to send a man weekly from the castle with detailed menus and recipes for the Old Lord’s meals. In exchange, a few gold coins monthly—talk about a sweet deal.
“What a magnanimous soul, our lord! Long may he live!”
“So flattery’s just your habit.”
Ian clicked his tongue watching, but who cared?
‘Locked up a week, now getting paid monthly? This counts as a business trip!’
What a steal.
A reasonable lord—hurray!
“Pack your things. Time to go.”
“You bet. ...Wait, what’s with the outfit? You heading out?”
Cheerfully stuffing a small hand-satchel, Dominic eyed Ian suspiciously.
Ian was dressed for travel too.
“Yeah.”
“Where to?”
“Evergreen.”
“...Evergreen?”
“Evergreen.”
“...Our village...?”
“Orders to watch you in case you run.”
“...Holy sh—.”
Confinement lifted, but surveillance stayed.
“That’s our village.”
“Right on the coast.”
“I’ve told you a million times it’s a fishing village—did you even listen?”
The trip wasn’t boring, at least.
Ian lacked flexibility but wasn’t picky, and a week cooped up together had made them oddly accustomed to each other.
Not that either would admit it.
“Dominic?”
“Kallon, Uncle!”
“Thought you weren’t coming back for a while, but whatever—glad you’re here. Help out quick!”
“What’s going on?”
The first person Dominic ran into at the village edge was none other than Kallon, the former chief.
His face was ashen.
“The Devil’s Hand has appeared in the sea!”
Damn, what fresh hell is this?